The Heiress
by eddiduck95
Summary: To an outsider Lady Isabella Swan, heiress to the Duchy of Shropshire, had it all. Wealth, status, looks and homes all over the globe. She had everything she could ever want. Everthing but love. OOC/AH
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Not a work of genius but hopefully good enough to want to read. This chapter is just an introduction really.

**Disclaimer: **Stephenie Meyer is the genius behind Twilight and I don't own anything that is recognizable e.g. brands.

Chapter 1: Going Home

Looking out the window I thought the morning sky was a nice representation of my life; dull, empty and seemingly endless. To an outsider it would seem I had it all- wealth, looks and houses all over the globe.

The villa in Malaga, the town houses in Venice and Paris, the penthouse apartments in New York and Sydney. Not to mention the numerous country estates located across the UK. It was to the family home, Shrewsbury Manor, which I returned to now.

As the plane soared over the ocean I reflected on the time I had spent in Italy staying with my friend Rosalie in Venice, preferring not to stay at the townhouse on my own. Rose was the latest supermodel and in great demand by big name designers all over the globe.

However she had given it all up when she married her husband Emmett, a member of the Italian aristocracy. Her title of Countess Rosalie McCarthy-Hale was her only redeeming factor in the eyes of people like my parents, who believed the career and life of a model was incredibly 'déclassé'. A tall, blonde air hostess interrupted my thoughts.

'Your Grace we will be landing shortly I must ask you to reconnect your seatbelt before touchdown' she said in a clipped British accent, not dissimilar to my own.

I nodded my acknowledgement, and sighed as I realised I would soon be back in England and would have to return to my manner of aloof and distant to maintain the appearance that I had carefully cultivated over my 23 years.

Nearly an hour later I was standing outside the gate entrance at Manchester airport. Baggage claim had been a nightmare and I had to wait for nearly thirty minutes for luggage to come round the carousel- now my cases were being loaded into the black Rolls Royce that I always used while at home.

One of my favorite chauffeurs was driving today so I flashed him a rare genuine smile as I entered the luxury car, the door of which he had already opened for me.

For the duration of the journey I simply stared out of the tinted windows as I watched the landscape change from inner city tower blocks to rolling hills and the occasional country estate.

As we approached Shrewsbury Manor my driver, Andrew, looked in his rear view mirror and began to talk to me with the respect I had come to expect, but not enjoy, from those people who were deemed a 'lower class' than myself.

'Miss Swan, your parents asked me to inform you that there will be a social event tonight in recognition of your return.'

I sighed quietly and I thought I saw a brief look of sympathy flash across his eyes before he continued.

'Unfortunately the Duke and Duchess already have appointments this afternoon so they will speak to you tonight.'

By this time we had driven up the ridiculously long drive through the parkland and arrived at the main door.

'Thank you, Andrew. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.' I replied simply before exiting the car and making my way up the steps into the entrance hall.

I nodded to the maid that was cleaning the gilt mirror across from the staircase before climbing to the second floor passing the first floor that held my parents rooms including their studies and those of their assistants.

The ground floor housed the kitchens and all the social rooms including a ballroom, a formal dining room and lounge as well as a wrought iron conservatory recently added to the pool room.

Reaching the second floor I looked around at what I informally called 'Bella's Floor', mainly dedicated to my lounge, bedroom, bathroom, dressing room, study and private library with the exception of one of the numerous guest rooms that often accommodated any of my friends that stayed with us.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Thanks to BeWithoutYou9 and randomgirl18 for being the first people to add The Heiress to Story Alert and ncy555 for being the first to review.

**Disclaimer: **Stephenie Meyer is the genius behind Twilight and I don't own anything that is recognizable e.g. brands.

Chapter 2: Photographs and Preparations

Flinging open the heavy oak door I took in the sight of my bedroom, possibly the only room in the house that showed even a little personality. The mirror over my dresser was decorated with rosettes, ribbons and certificates for numerous things; most notably horse riding, especially show jumping.

The bedside table was artfully littered with photographs including a 9 year old me on the beach at St. Tropez (accompanied by a nanny, my parents being too busy to take their only child to the beach) and my college graduation that my parents had only come to for the publicity- they wanted the press to know that they were so proud of their little girl who graduated with top honors in English Literature from Oxford University.

In pride of place was a picture of me with my beloved horse Chase. He was a thoroughbred stallion with a brown coat, brown mane and four white socks that overall made him look distinguished and polished.

This picture was taken at a show jumping event by the old stable manager Jennie. We had got along spectacularly but unfortunately she had left just before I went to Italy to work at a horse ranch in the USA. Accompanying the picture was a small news clipping from the local paper, Midlands Express.

'Chasing Dreams Not The Competition

On Saturday 5th July the annual Midlands Show Jumping Event was graced with the presence of local nobility Lady Isabella Marie Swan. Riding to success on her stallion Chasing Dreams Miss Swan took home numerous ribbons and rosettes.

The heiress to the exceedingly wealthy Duchy of Shropshire is known to frequent the society pages of numerous magazines in her capacity as patron of certain charities.

A spokesperson for her father- Sir Charles Swan, Duke of Shropshire- quoted 'Lady Swan's parents are incredibly proud of her achievements and look forward to her improving in her chosen fields of interest.'

'Typical' I thought bitterly to myself, 'let the media and consequently the entire country know that I disappoint you.'

Throwing myself heavily onto the king sized bed in exasperation I landed on something plastic and rustling. Turning over I saw a full length garment bag with a letter written on headed notepaper pinned to it.

Scanning it briefly I noticed the use of formal titles and an explanation as to why the bag was placed in my room. It was my dress for the event tonight and had instructions as to which shoes and jewellery to accessorize it with.

Cautiously unzipping the bag, careful not to catch or tear the fabric within, I found a dress that was, admittedly, my style. Conservative but not frumpy, young but not slutty I had to admit my stylist and personal assistant knew me well.

Alice Whitlock was married to our Estate Manager, Jasper, and had been hired as soon as she set foot on Swan property five years ago. Her sense of style and organizational skills made her the perfect candidate for the newly created position to assist me as I made my debut in to high society.

Besides Rosalie she had quickly become one of my few genuine friends and knew me better than my own parents. Alice had quickly become my confidant due to the distance between Rosalie and I, and it was Alice I now called for her help about this party.

After just one ring Alice picked up her phone, interrupting me before I even had time to exchange the usual pleasantries.

'Let me guess, you need help getting ready and you don't know who is on the guest list or times of arrival.' Without pausing for breath she continued on, 'luckily for you I am already making my way up the staircase so just hold on for ten seconds.'

She ended the phone conversation as she walked through the door and immediately burst into a tirade of questions. 'Hi Bella, how was Italy, did you buy any nice clothes, did you-?'

Interrupting her before I could forget her initial questions I said 'Honestly Alice take a nice, deep breath and then I'll tell you about Italy ok?'

The next few hours passed in a flurry of conversation, beauty products and rustling silk. Before I knew it I was waiting to make my 'grand entrance' down the second staircase and into the ballroom where the guests were congregated, including all the local dignitaries.


End file.
